The Drunk Butterfly
by MomentoMori2
Summary: The more woman love, the more horrible is her revenge.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Rodolphus, stop it!" cried Narcissa indignantly while taking away a roll of parchment from the hands of that insolent fellow.

"Who would have thought? Our old buck Nott writes the verses," Lestrange bite his lower lip to stop himself from laughing.

"You don't understand anything. That's so roma-a-antic," stretched my sis, closing her eyes voluptuously. "Just imagine: he, an unrecognized genius, his beautiful lady, the moon and…"

"… and the bottle of wine. Lady would at once become more tractable and genius would be immediately recognized," I finished with a broad smile.

It was really amusing to watch the arguments of naïve and ecstatic Narcissa with cynic Rody. She was not yet old enough for our games to play in them like an equal, only a third year, after all.

"Bella!" she looked at me with the resent in her eyes. "And you too! You could have supported me, after all."

"In what?" I asked idly.

"In praising talentless rhymes, made by our classmate," answered Rudy instead of me.

The girl blushed, turned around and left the common room like a shot. Offended, silly girl. Lestrange gave me a wink and proposed,

"Should we find Nott?"

"For what? He'll come here by himself. The dinner is almost finished and he'll definitely return to his dorm for the broom."

"Oh, yes. I have forgotten our team has a training today," my friend nodded thoughtfully and then abruptly smiled mischievously. "Will you come?"

"Of course, I will. And what about Malfoy and Rosier?"

"They will come," he confirmed. "They'll never miss such a fun."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

An hour later I walked along the path, leading to the greenhouses. It was cold outside, a typical March wetness. I had to cast the waterproof charm on my shoes for not catching a cold. There was not much joy in the red nose and affected by cold voice, I learned that truth long ago. For example, Narcissa, even being ill, remained to be beautiful and charming while I lost all my good looks immediately. And the character spoiled terribly, too. In such days Rudy always had me to drink a strange potion, brewed after an ancient recipe. It was based on the raspberry jam, infused with alcohol. After it I became drunk really fast – so robust it was! – I always laughed loudly and all the time tried to prove something to someone. In general, behaved like a stupid Gryffindor. Lestrange smiled at that and called me "the drunk butterfly". I became angry. What a moron! To compare Bellatrix Black with insects, even if with the pretty ones, was short-sighted on his part. The next morning I usually awaked totally healthy, was sobered up and with a genial plan of revenge in my mind. Last time Rodolphus tasted an excellent pumpkin juice with the extractor of rhubarb. Lying around the hospital wing for several days with the stomach ache and still having understood nothing, my friend continued to tease me with that drunk butterfly.

I shivered because of the gust of wind. I never liked spring. Summer, on the contrary… Honey summer was always amazing for me. Near our mansion was a field. In warm sunny days I liked to play there with sisters. Grass was really high, at least waist-deep, and I always stumbled, floundering in the long skirt. And I laughed, loudly and light-heartedly. The air was fresh and smelled sweetly with native grasses. It smelled with an odd aroma of the molten happiness, filling the lungs completely, and it seemed for me that behind my back grew transparent wings, unsubstantial and slim as the web. In moments like that I really believed to be resembled to that dull insect which Rudy liked so much.

I needed to find the Fireflower in greenhouses. Its leaves, brewed in mild, had one interesting feature – everything that came in touch with them colored in resistant red color. It couldn't have been washed, neither magic could've helped; it faded away completely by itself approximately in three days. For today's prank that plant suited perfectly well.

I found the necessary department rather quickly. Professor – thanks God! – wasn't seen anywhere, so I cut off the biggest and juiciest leaves slowly and hid them in my school bag. I didn't pity anything for that filthy Mudblood!


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"What is our plan like?" asked Rosier when we all gathered together in the corner of the common room.

From time to time other students cast us curious glances but they bewared to go to us with stupid questions. I smirked satisfyingly – cowards, what could one do about that?

"Malfoy, have you found out the new password to the prefects' bathroom?" asked Rodolphus at that moment.

"Sure, I have," nodded Lucius, smirking, and then added," 'Fireflower'."

"How symbolic," I noticed thoughtfully.

"Bella?" Lestrange looked at me questioningly.

I silently showed him the vial, made from dark glass. I always had the best marks in Potions that was why I was so confident in the positive result.

"Great! Let's do like that: Lucius and Bella will be on guard. They can shield us from Professors as the Prefects of the House id something will go wrong," my friend cast us the meaningful glance. "And I will pour our charming potion in the bathroom when Tonks climb into it. Rosier and Nott must guarantee our efforts not to be in vain. In the necessary moment you'll bring several students from other Houses to the fourth floor. They must "accidentally" see the new skin color of our Gryffindor Prefect. And remember – wait the signal to come and only then act. Because if we fail then our destiny will be to clean the cauldrons till the end of the school," Rudy made a pause, "without magic."

Friends started to nod strenuously – nobody wanted to get the detention.


End file.
